Approval
by Nibzo
Summary: Alfred and Arthur are into their third year of marriage, but something is missing.  Leave it to Alfred to try and remedy this in his own special way while they wait for approval for adoption.  Not an MPreg, USUK, AU.  Rating may go up; genre will change.
1. Chapter 1

**So I got the idea from this fic from an 80s movie I used to love as a kid. I'm not going to tell what it is until later though because that just gives a good amount of the plot away. You might be able to figure it out by the next chapter or so, or even from the title.**

**And anyway, it's not like it's exactly like the movie anyway. Just a few similarities here and there. I've got it all mapped out in a notebook too so hopefully I will be posting this on a regular basis. The title and rating of this may change too; the title I have right now is kind of "eh", but perhaps I'll come up with a better title later. Rating may go up depending on if I add smut or not.**

**I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own this mystery 80s movie that I took a few ideas from. Oh come on, borrowing small ideas here and there isn't that bad anyway. Shakespeare did it; go take a look at the _Spanish Tragedy_ and then at _Hamlet_ if you don't believe me. ;P**

Lately, Arthur Kirkland had been a lot more moody than usual.

It really wasn't a whole lot of change, either, since sometimes the Brit's mood would shift for no real reason on a regular basis, but as of late he had been feeling a lot more sadness than anything else. Here he was, three years into his marriage, running a daycare on the Northeastern coast of the United States; he had a loving husband and the job of his dreams, making a fairly decent living doing what he enjoyed, and really he couldn't think of anything else that would make him happier.

Well, okay, he could. And that was what had made him so depressed recently.

Some called his husband, Alfred Jones, dense, simple-minded, and oblivious. But he wasn't that thick that he didn't realize the sudden change or notice that something was up.

It was on a particular day in March that things had gotten a little too out-of-control; so bad that in the middle of the day sometime during lunch Arthur just had a sudden breakdown. It had happened so quickly; one minute a parent had come to pick up their child and Arthur was signing them out and the next he had excused himself to the bathroom where Alfred could hear the other trying to control his sobbing. Noting that Arthur hadn't been himself the past week or so, Alfred called for another employee to come over and sent his husband upstairs to take the rest of the day off.

That evening, once everything was closed up and everyone had gone home, Alfred whipped up a quick dinner for his husband and put it on a tray to bring it to their room. He supposed that Arthur probably hadn't come out ever since he had been sent upstairs, and figured that frying up a few grilled cheese sandwiches and some tomato soup wouldn't hurt if Arthur was indeed hungry.

Holding the tray in one hand he knocked on the door, and after a bit of shuffling heard a rather quiet, "Come in" from the other side and turned the knob to enter. Arthur smiled half-heartedly when he noticed that Alfred had gone to the trouble to bring him some dinner; he was quite hungry, but he was also still feeling a bit down and couldn't force himself to fully smile.

"How're you doing?"

"Alright, I suppose," Arthur whispered, shrugging as he moved over so Alfred could fit onto the bed with him.

"Oh, right, I made you this." Reaching into his shirt pocket he pulled out a flat square of pink, yellow, and light blue made of wax ironed beads, setting it onto Arthur's lap before taking one of the sandwiches. "It's supposed to be the British flag."

The other laughed playfully. "I would have assumed that you'd know the colors of my flag, git. They are the same colors of yours after all."

"Well, yeah, but you know we ran out of red and white at least two weeks ago, and I thought the dark blue would look weird among the lighter colors."

Arthur chuckled again. "Thank you," he said, leaning over to kiss Alfred on the cheek. "It was very sweet of you."

The two ate in silence, the sound of their chewing and rustling of the sheets every now and then when they moved the only thing that was heard. Only after Alfred had picked up his second grill cheese did he clear his throat to talk to Arthur.

"So…are you really alright?"

One of Arthur's eyebrows rose in confusion. "What do you mean? Of course I'm alright."

"Oh come on, Artie, I'm not _that_ dense as to notice that something is up."

"Really, I don't know what you could be talking about," Arthur replied, a bit more defensive. "Today was just…a rough day."

"Artie…"

The way Alfred had said that, so serious from his regularly joking and happy nature, yet the slightest hint of worry still in his tone. It made Arthur's chest grow tight as he felt this small pang of guilt. He knew that Alfred was just really worried about him, and it was his stubbornness that was getting in the way of things and making things more difficult. But what if Alfred laughed at him?

"Alfred…we've been married for three years now, correct?"

At this, Alfred's face paled. "Oh God, Arthur, please, please, you can't do this to me?"

"Do what?"

"Whatever it is you're unhappy with, I can change it! I'll do anything you want, just don't…"

At this Arthur's eyes grew wide, and he couldn't help but let out a loud laugh at Alfred's reaction. "Git, are you thinking that I want to separate?"

"Well, yeah. What else would it be?"

Arthur laughed again, and at this Alfred looked rather confused. Arthur's laughter was making him really nervous, and it wasn't until the Brit looked up and saw the worry on his husband's face and said, "Oh stop that, I'm not asking for a divorce."

Letting out a nervous breath, Alfred's tense shoulders relaxed. "So then why are you acting this way?"

Ah, and now they were going to get to the real problem. Arthur's laughs died down as his hands began fiddling with the sheets, going over in his mind how he wanted to say this. "Right, well, about that…we've been married for three years then and…well…" he paused, "oh, just never mind. You'll laugh."

"Arthur, I can't help fix it unless you tell me what's wrong. I won't laugh, I promise."

Biting his lip and sitting silently for just a few seconds, Arthur finally took a deep breath.

"I want a baby."

Of course, not long after those four words were said did Alfred burst out in fits of laughter, holding his stomach and being careful not to kick their dinner everywhere. Arthur hit the bed with his fist. "You promised you wouldn't laugh!" he yelled, almost on the verge of crying.

"No, no! I'm just so glad that that's all!"

"That's all? Alfred, I'm being serious!" He really did look like he was going to cry now, straightening up on the bed to make himself appear bigger as if that would make the other take him more seriously.

"Oh Artie," Alfred said, reaching over to pull him into a hug. Suddenly Arthur's face was buried into his husband's shirt. "I'm just really happy that's all you're worrying about because I thought it'd be something awful. But having a baby…that's wonderful!"

As the two embraced Arthur felt like a giant weight was being lifted off of him. He inhaled deeply, smiling at the scent that was definitely Alfred. His fingers curled into the other's shirt, letting out the breath he had taken, feeling much better now that he had told the other and he had been so happy.

"I'm just curious…why now?"

"Well, you know, we work in a daycare and…oh please don't laugh, but ever since I was little I had this, this…" he moved his hands about as if the word would come to him that way, "maternal instinct when it comes to having a family."

"Awwww, that's so cute, Artie," Alfred said, pushing him out of the hug to Eskimo kiss his husband. This only seemed to irritate the other, but only in a small way as he scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn't pull away. "I'm just concerned about how long it will take," Arthur continued, "adoption or finding a surrogate could take several months, or even years."

"Well then," Alfred began, looking Arthur right in his green eyes, "we should get started right away, I suppose."

Arthur smiled back at Alfred, who ruffled the Brit's hair and gave him a quick peck on the head as he got up, taking the tray away. "I'm glad then that I asked. Even though you should have just told me," Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred's patronizing yet playful tone, "I would be more than happy to start a family with you."

As he left the room to return the dishes to the kitchen, leaving a now blushing Arthur sitting on the bed, his mind did wander back to what Arthur had said, how it could take more than a year depending on circumstances. He knew Arthur was good at being patient and was relieved at getting that off of his chest, but he hated for his husband to be waiting that long, especially since it was something he really wanted. And besides, wasn't that one of the vows that had taken when they had gotten married? To provide for each other to the best of their abilities?

Setting the dishes in the sink, Alfred suddenly had an idea. It was a long-shot, but the mere thought of his love's face when he saw what he had done made him grin. And it's not like he wasn't capable of doing something like that anyway, and their storage unit was full of random parts that he had wanted to experiment with but never had the time to anyway.

Perhaps it was time for him to put some of those parts to use, and if it made Arthur happy, well, than he was more than willing to do it.

**TBC**

**So there's the first chapter. I have ten chapters mapped out for this whole story. Hopefully I can sit down and write the next one within a week or two. I tend to write these during class, so…here's hoping I can stick to it! **

**Oh, and grilled cheese instead of burgers…totally unAmerica-like but grilled cheese are sooooooooo good. Especially with bacon. Mmmm, bacon.**

**Lol, and the bead thing actually happened at where I work. Wanted to try making some different flags with the iron beads but we were out of the major colors…oops! **

**Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I started chapter 2 and have been completing it over the last few days or so. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia. Do not own this unnamed 80s movie that will soon be named. **

It had been nearly two months since the two had had their little talk, and a month into the process of submitting the proper paperwork for adoption.

For the most part, things had seemed to go back to normal. Arthur was a little less grumpy than he had been before, and had returned to work the next day with a smile on his face. Alfred too seemed full of his usual energy and spunk, and together the two successfully ran their business while anxiously waiting for word to get back to them from the adoption agency.

Though shortly after that talk, just when their problems seemed to be solved and their relationship getting back to normal, Alfred had began to act a bit strange instead.

But it was nothing like Arthur's strange that had preceded their talk. What followed was Alfred spending a lot of time alone, holing himself up in the basement of their house, tinkering away at only God-knows-what. Arthur couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going on down there; he knew Alfred had been a bit of a science-junkie back in the day, but as of late things were getting out of hand.

First it had been the man's food intake that seemed to be affected. Before Alfred would have gobbled down nearly anything Arthur had set in front of him, even though he would always complain that it tasted horrible. Lately though he would ignore the dinner Arthur worked so hard to cook in favor of staying in the basement, meticulously continuing work and ignoring his stomach in order to finish this project.

Second had been that Alfred's focus was suddenly elsewhere. Instead of actually doing his job during the day, helping with the numerous children they had running around at work, he would lose himself in his thoughts. Normally this wouldn't have been too much of a problem, Afred was a little spacey to begin with, but now he was doing it at the most inconvenient times, and as he would sit back and contemplate a problem that had popped up in his project the older kids would find ways to wreak havoc with Arthur and the other employees chasing after them.

Least to say, Arthur was slightly annoyed. Though that was the least that Arthur was worried about, because the third change to happen was that Alfred was so engrossed in his project that he would completely ignore the other, and while he didn't mean it he would avoid being intimate with Arthur at all costs when he was really wrapped up in the project.

"Oh Alfred…" Arthur purred one night. He had been waiting in bed for nearly two hours for the other to come out of the basement, and when the other finally appeared the shorter blond was more than annoyed, but was at that point craving intimacy so much that his anger dissipated the moment his husband actually came through the bedroom door. He was going to do his absolute best to get the other into bed with him; Arthur had worn his tightest pair of shorts and only his tightest pair of shorts, wiggling his ass on the bed as Alfred suddenly burst through the door.

"Oh, hey Arthur," Alfred replied, walking over to the bureau and opening one of the drawers he kept some random junk in, digging through the mess and unknowingly ignoring his husband.

"It's late, love," Arthur whispered, getting up from his position on the bed once he saw that Alfred wasn't paying attention to him. He got out of bed and sauntered across the room, wrapping his arms around the taller blond's waist and sensually rubbing against him. "Come to bed."

"Not now, Arthur."

"Oh come on!" he suddenly yelled, letting go of him and taking a defensive stance. This was the last straw. "You've been ignoring me and everything else for almost two months now! What on earth could be so bloody important?"

"I can't tell you; it's a secret."

"Oh like you can't tell me!" Arthur responded, Alfred finding what he was looking for and closing the drawer to head back downstairs. Before he could fully leave the room, back towards his husband to go down the stairs, he made one final attempt to get through to the other.

"I'm your husband, for Christ's sake!" he cried after him in frustration.

This made Alfred stop in his tracks in front of the door, and Arthur could tell that this had finally brought the other back to earth, back to the present, back to him. He was forcing himself not to cry, though his eyes were still watery as he angrily stared the other down, Alfred with that apologetic look in his eye staring back at him.

In a short moment, the taller blond crossed the room and laid a kiss to his husband's head. But he stayed only for a moment, whispering to him before he went back downstairs.

"I'm sorry. I'll be done in a couple of days, I promise."

With that he turned around, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a little guilty for getting that worked up about it. He knew his husband would never intentionally do this, and that the idiot had a one-track mind, that this was normal behavior. Still, it hurt that Alfred would go to these lengths, and for what? Hell if he knew, it was a secret.

Arthur sighed. "Whatever it is," he thought, a hand running through his blond hair, "it better be a damn good one."

….

It was about to be unveiled.

Alfred, with a hand over his husband's eyes and an arm around his waist to help him down the basement stairs. He was excited that he was finally able to show Arthur what he had been working on and knew, he just knew Arthur would be happy. Step-by-step his excitement grew, and when they finally reach the bottom he nearly pushed the shorter blond forward.

"Alfred, what is this?" he said, hands still over his eyes. "My birthday was last month and our anniversary isn't until September."

"You'll see, you'll see," he pushed him a few more feet, "alright now, one, two, three!"

Uncovering Arthur's eyes, Arthur couldn't help but gasp in surprise.

But that gasp was rather short, as he then wondered just what it was that sat in front of him. About three feet tall, it looked as though it was a jumble of appliances pasted onto two tracks of rubber. Maybe Arthur could see a person in there; attached to the "shoulders" were two metal appendages that he assumed were arms, attached to the end of those were what looked like the claw out of an arcade machine. And he could see a head, or sort of; it looked more like a combination of a small rectangular alarm clock and a pair of binoculars and was that their old toaster it was attached to?

"It looks…nice," Arthur said through gritted teeth. Alfred smiled and bounced about like a puppy. "I know, it's amazing, right?

"Right…right…" Arthur mumbled quietly, before, brow furrowed, he huffed in frustration. "Okay, I lied. I have no bloody idea what this is or why you are showing it to me."

"It's our new kid!"

"Excuse me?"

Alfred crouched down and actually opened up the toaster on the front; instead of the normal pieces of metal that would heat up there were buttons, wires, and switches inside. He turned them all on and finally pressed the final button and holy Christ, the thing actually started to move. More gears began to move as it booted itself up, jerking slightly as it came to life right in front of Arthur's eyes.

Finally it stopped, its head moving to look around. "Hello mother, father."

"Alfred," Arthur said, a tone in his voice that suggested he was just a bit disappointed, "what exactly have you made me?"

"Well," he said, his foot digging into the concrete floor of the basement, hand reaching up to touch his neck, "you said that it might take awhile for the paperwork to go through, so I thought I'd make this guy so that you could have a kid to take care of until it actually happened."

Arthur laughed a bit at that. He couldn't stop the little snickers that slipped past his lips; Alfred had done something that was completely…well, Alfred. "Oh, love, why didn't you get me a goldfish?" he teased. "Most people would have responded with that."

"That's boring!" he exclaimed, and the robot turned to face Arthur at that. "Mother? What makes it think that I'm a woman?"

"Well…" Arthur looked to the side, "I may have programmed it that way."

"Alfred," the smaller blond again sounded a bit annoyed.

"But wait, I programmed it to do all kinds of things! It's called Programmed Electronic Technology! He can do chores and go play and do anything else a normal kid would do. Well," he took that back, "except for actually feel anything, but that's expected since he's a robot, right?"

"Programmed Electronic Technology…" Arthur repeated. He crouched down to look the smaller robot in the eyes, and all he really saw was a reflection of himself amongst the shallow blackness of the lenses. Frowning, he sighed; this wasn't what he had had in mind. And what good was doing anything a normal child could do if he couldn't feel?

"Don't you like it?"

Arthur's frown quickly turned into a half-smile; Alfred had sounded like a kicked puppy, and his husband had gone to all of the trouble to try and remedy the situation. He couldn't really say that he hadn't seen this coming; Alfred had been a bit of a science junkie back in the day, and knew his way around a computer pretty well. And it was…it was…charming, in its own unique way.

"What should we name it?" Arthur finally said, and Alfred's mood instantly brightened. Excitedly he explained, "Well, it is Programmed Electronic Technology…"

"Git, are you suggesting we call our son 'Pet'?" Arthur stood back up, the robot's head moving upward to watch his "mother" get up off the ground. "Don't be ridiculous."

It was silent in the room, save for the whirring of the gears and mechanics of the robot spinning and the sound of its head shifted from Arthur to Alfred, waiting for a prompt from either of them. Both stood in thought, pondering a good name for their new "child".

"How about Peter?"

Alfred looked up from thought at the request, and then smiled. He set his hand on the robot's head and pat the metal, almost as if he were christening it. "Alright then! From now on, your name is Peter. Got that?"

"Yes, Father."

Arthur slightly grimaced at the voice; it sounded so automatic, so unemotional. He really didn't know if this was going to work out, but then he saw the face of his husband searching those green eyes for approval and…well, he couldn't just say no to that.

"Right then," Arthur said, "we should head back upstairs. Peter," he felt odd saying the name, as if it were actually alive, "you're a part of this family now, so you come as well."

"Yes, Mother."

Peter would always obey; he was programmed to listen to his parents. Arthur sighed; nothing he could really do about it now. Besides, it's not like the robot would be there for long. If everything was approved then they would get a real child, one with emotions who would cry when it was hurt or laugh when it was excited, one who would ask for bedtime stories and tell him and Alfred that it loved them and truly meant it.

Little did Arthur know that this day was approaching much sooner than he originally thought.

**TBC **

**Well, I tried to be as descriptive of Peter as possible without giving too much away. If you're really still struggling with what he looks like, think Wall-E, only a tad taller. Or, if you suddenly know the mysterious 80s movie I keep saying this is borrowed from, think that robot only a tad shorter.**

**I will probably reveal what this movie is in notes of the next chapter, since what is supposed to happen will most likely give it away. I think that's about as much as I borrowed from the movie as well. Anyway, hope chapter 2 was interesting enough for you. Next chapter should be better.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Huh…chapter 3 took a bit longer than expected. But I did get it done. It also is a bit longer in length, so you have some more substance to get through than the last two. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia. Do not own this movie, which I will reveal at the end of this chapter. Nor do I own Encyclopedia Britannica, which I borrowed for this chapter. Or the Oxford English Dictionary. OED is god.  
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It was a Saturday. Arthur was washing the dishes, looking out the window over the sink into the backyard every now and then to glimpse at what Peter was doing. Of course, the little robot wouldn't get into trouble; the bugger had been programmed to play, but he had also been programmed to stay out of trouble. Arthur sighed as he picked up a plate from the sudsy water; as much as he liked the idea, he wasn't too keen to having a robot son.

"_I mean,"_ he thought, _"what kind of kid doesn't get into trouble? This is almost too easy," _he thought, scrubbing circles into the plate before setting it in the drying rack, picking up another dish. He looked up again to see Peter chasing after a ball, "kicking" it around the backyard and weaving in and out of the equipment that the other children used during work.

As much as he disliked Peter's lack of emotion, to say he didn't like Peter at all would have been a blatant lie. He was slightly charming, and even if it had been programmed into him the politeness was refreshing. But still…

"Ah," he vocalized his reaction to the sky, now noticing that outside it was rather dark, grey clouds blanketing the blue that had been there only moments ago. He set down the dish he had worked on and walked to the back door. Grasping at the frame of the door, he yelled to Peter out in the yard.

"Peter," the robot stopped kicking the ball and looked to Arthur, "come inside. There's a storm coming, and we wouldn't want you getting wet." Yes, that would be bad, especially since Alfred was out running an errand and Arthur wouldn't have any idea on how to fix the machine.

Arthur left to return to his task when he saw Peter was listening, _"of course he'd listen,"_ Arthur scoffed, "he's programmed that way." Returning to his post he stuck his hands into the now lukewarm water, picking up a fork from the bottom and giving it a few good scrubs before rinsing. He heard a loud boom from outside, the thunder in the sky foreshadowing a storm, and looked outside to make sure Peter was almost inside. He was, but was moving at an incredibly slow rate. "His battery must be low," Arthur thought as he set down the silverware he had just picked up and walked into the living room to get the cord needed to recharge Peter.

Outside, Peter had just about reached the door, the rubber tracks of his "feet" scooting him across the pavement to the door when that loud clap of thunder resonated through the air. For a moment the machine stopped, distracted by the sound, but then continued up the path once it registered what it was. Arthur was there at the door, waiting for him with the charging cord in hand.

Suddenly, the sky lit up, and the bolt of lightning that leaped from the clouds hit Peter right on his radio-like head. Peter's whole body lit up as the electricity surged through his metal body; the bolts jumped from his head to his chest, across his arms and down his torso. His eyes lit up until they were a bright red and his whole body shook from the force of the bolt. Arthur stood at the frame of the door, shock and horror evident in his face, completely still until Peter stopped shaking and went totally limp, his body falling to the ground.

"Peter!" he shouted, running outside. He stopped right in front of the mass once he saw the leftover sparks still jumping over the metal, and he swore to himself as he paused. The only part that wouldn't have been affected would have been the rubber tracks at the bottom, but he didn't want to touch them with just his hands. He ran back into get a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink; it was at that time that Alfred had conveniently returned home, a small plastic bag in one hand and a jug of milk in the other.

"Hey honey," he smiled, unaware of what had just happened, but noticing that something was up with the way Arthur ignored him and went straight for the kitchen. "Is something wrong?"

"It's Peter," Arthur yelled from the kitchen, pushing aside the cleaners to try and find a pair of rubber gloves.

"Huh?"

"He's been electrocuted."

"What?" Alfred gasped. "Where is he?"

"Outside."

Without thinking Alfred abandoned his groceries in the middle of the living room and sprinted outside. "Wait, Alfred," Arthur yelled after him, rubber gloves now in hand as he heard Alfred's sneakers hit the pavement of the backyard. "Don't touch him, you idiot!"

Ignoring the other, he winced, "Ow!" he said as he opened the toaster that was Peter's chest. Alfred felt the little buzzes of electricity and continued wincing, but worked at the buttons and wires regardless, connecting and disconnecting things and continually pressing the button in order to get a response. "Come on, come on…" he muttered in frustration, trying out different patterns to get the robot to respond.

Finally, after many attempts the body shook and the lights inside of the toaster came back on, the whirring of gears and other mechanical parts moving together. Alfred stood back, his fingertips red from the burn of the metal. After a few more clicks and whirs, Peter stood up straight, fully operational. He looked to his two parents quizzically.

"Input," he said, his voice now a bit higher and less automated.

"Input?" Arthur repeated, looking to Alfred. "Alfred, I think he's still broken."

"Input," Peter again said. "Mommy, daddy, input."

"Or maybe he's not," Arthur took it back, "he's still calling me 'mum'."

Of course, Peter picked up the vowel change as how he was supposed to use it, and inside what little memory was leftover from the shock deleted the "o" and replaced it with a "u". "Mummy?"

At this Arthur's eyes grew wide, and he nearly lost his balance when he jumped in surprise, clinging to his husband to keep himself upright. Peter wheeled over to the surprised blond, and his hand gently grasped at the edge of Arthur's shirt and pulled at it for attention.

"Mummy? Mummy, input. Need input."

"Alfred…" Arthur looked up at the other man, who seemed deep in thought. "What does that mean? Why does he need input?"

"I'd like to know that too," Alfred replied. "I mean, I programmed him with a pretty wide span of knowledge to begin with, but now he needs input? It doesn't make sense."

"So what should we do?"

"Hold on," Alfred said, "I've got his backup disc." The sky interrupted him and he flinched in surprise. "How about we all go inside?"

Arthur nodded at that, and went inside, but stopped when he noticed Peter wasn't following him. "Peter, you too now," he said while motioning for Peter to follow. Of course, all the robot did was mimic his action, lifting one hand in the air and asking him to come back outside.

"No, Peter, we need to go inside," he said again, this time more irritated, moving both hand to signal coming inside. Of course, Peter again disobeyed, and instead moved both of his hands to imitate the blond. This did nothing but frustrate Arthur further.

"No, Peter! Bad! I need you to come with me!"

"Input!"

At this Arthur groaned and went back outside to grab him by the hands. He instead tried pulling him inside, but Peter was a lot heavier than he had originally thought, and he felt like he was trying to pull a stubborn zoo animal than a robot who was even smaller than him.

"Peter, I need you to come this way!"

"Input, mummy, input!"

"Not now, I need you to go forward!"

Of course, commands of direction were one thing the little robot did remember. "Forward!" Peter chimed and began rolling forward to go inside. Arthur let out a dignified shriek as he fell over from the robot suddenly moving forward, and was lucky he hadn't been run over by the thing. Peter rolled through the frame and into the house, Arthur letting out a huff as he sat on the ground in irritation, Alfred reappearing and sticking out of the frame.

"Arthur, what are you still doing outside? Peter is already in here."

Arthur pulled himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, muttering curses and insults under his breath.

…

"Now then," Alfred said, crouched down behind Peter in the living room. His radio-like head had a slot for a disc at the back, and as he slipped the disc it whirred in response. Alfred seemed pleased. "This should work. I'm glad I made this when I was working at him. Never knew it would—"

The disc spat back out and hit Alfred in the forehead, cutting him off midsentence. The look on Alfred's face seemed frozen in surprise, but he picked it up off the floor and put the disc into the slot again. The second try took even less time for the disc to spit back out at Alfred's head, Peter making a sound if disapproval.

"Well," the taller blond said, standing up and scratching his head. "Maybe it worked and he didn't want to take it a second time?"

"Input, daddy," Peter only responded. "In-put!"

"Alfred," Arthur interjected, noticing that now his husband was beginning to lose his temper, "Maybe…maybe he wants us to teach him."

"He wants us to teach him?" Alfred said, and the scoffed. "Impossible. He's just a robot. He can't _want _us to do anything."

Arthur only frowned that his idea had been disregarded and stormed off to the bookshelf to grab an encyclopedia. It was insulting that his husband wouldn't even give his suggestion a try, so he was off to prove him wrong. Alfred, in turn, tried his best to try and force the disc into the back of Peter's head, only to get it spit out numerous times. After a few attempts the disc wouldn't even go in, Peter grunting in protest, the blue-eyed man now trying to forcefully push the disc into the slot.

"Peter," Arthur said when he returned, and held out the first encyclopedia he had grabbed, the A volume. The robot looked at him, Alfred panting behind him from using all of his force to push the disc into Peter's head. "Input, Peter. That is your name: Peter."

"Pe-ter?" he said back.

"Yes, Peter. Do you remember how to read?"

"Read?"

"Yes, read," he opened the book, "you open the book and look at the words, and if you know how to read you'll recognize them right away."

Peter took the open book and held it in front of him. He scanned the first page it had opened up to.

"A…a…Aardvark!"

"Yes, good job, boy!" Arthur exclaimed, patting him on the back. It was strange that he was feeling rather proud.

"_Orycteropus afer_," he continued excitedly, not missing a beat, "also called antbear, " he was speeding up until there was nothing but the sound of muttering, his eyes scanning back and forth as he flipped the pages with incredible speed. Arthur stood back in amazement as he watched the pages turn like the book had been left open in front of a fan. Within minutes the robot closed the book and…he grinned?

"Ah, input!" Peter said, suddenly satisfied. "More input!"

"A-A-Alfred…" Arthur stuttered, Alfred now standing next to him, as amazed and confused as the smaller blond.

"Yeah?"

"Go get the second volume…in fact, bring all of them...and my copy of the OED."

**TBC**

**So if you haven't guessed the movie by now, it's Short Circuit! It's one of my favorite 80s movies and when watching it with my roommates one day I got this idea. **

**But that's about all I'm going to borrow from the movie. Just the idea of the robot child and the scene with the encyclopedias. The rest will be a bit different, so you can watch the movie now without it giving a whole lot away.**

**Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up within two weeks. So that's it for now!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This took me a lot longer to crank out than expected.**

**Well, anyway, for those who are still reading (or potential new readers: hello there!), here is Chapter 4. For some reason it's just taking me longer than normal to get things finished. I start a chapter or a one-shot and then it just sits on the computer and demands I work further on it and I stare back and do nothing. Terribly sorry for that. Even after summer class let out I've been feeling like doing absolutely nothing. I'll try to get better at that.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia. Do not own Short Circuit. **

"Fish tank!"

After Peter had devoured all 26 volumes of Arthur's encyclopedia set and the Oxford English Dictionary, the little robot went around the house, pointing to various objects and saying their name aloud.

"Lamp! Antique!"

At first Arthur and Alfred followed him around together, intrigued when he would point at an object and then quickly move to the one next to it.

"Open outlet! Electrical hazard!"

But eventually Arthur tired of following him around and decided it was about time to make dinner anyway. He headed into the kitchen while his husband enthusiastically continued to follow his creation around, eyes re-brightening each time a new object was found.

When dinner time came, though, Alfred went to sit at the table, Peter following him when he knew the taller blond was no longer paying attention to him. Of course, he only knew what the word "dinner" meant from the dictionary, and didn't get exactly why there were only two plates with food on them, why there were only two chairs at the table. He let out a discouraged hum when the two sat down.

"Where's mine?"

They both threw the robot a curious look, Alfred 's fork stopping mid-air as his mouth hung open. Arthur set the napkin on his lap, "Peter, you don't need to eat."

"Yes I do."

At this Alfred chuckled, his mouth now closing at the rather quick response and the look of disbelief on Arthur's face. He honestly hadn't been expecting that reply. Arthur frowned; since when had Peter been programmed to talk back to him like that? "Don't be silly. Where would you even put your food?"

Another discouraged hum from Peter as Alfred kept on eating, shoving the food into his face hurriedly and in an ungracious manner like he always did. Arthur took a sip of his water, but through the glass he could see Peter staring at him. "Boy," he said after taking a drink, "it's rude to stare."

"Where's mine?"

"For the love of…" Arthur thought, Alfred not phased at all by the robot. " 'us gif 'im somein t' eat," he said with a full mouth, and while it was nearly incomprehensible Arthur had known him long enough to get what he meant. "Git, what am I supposed to give him to eat? What is he going to need food for?"

There was no reply as the other kept eating. Arthur was about read to throttle him when he stopped and rose from his seat, having an idea.

"Mummy?"

"Mummy will be right back. He's going to get you something to eat," he said, and walked from his seat and down the narrow hall to his study. It was now a big mess due to the earlier commotion, the encyclopedias carelessly strewn across the floor, but his special bookshelf remained untouched. He looked for a good one to start with, his fingers grazing against the spines of his precious novels, title after title until he finally reached one he saw suitable.

Pulling it from the shelf he returned to the dinner people and set a place for Peter, the spare placemat almost blending into their table as he set a napkin to the side. He needed no silverware, but went into the kitchen to retrieve some anyway, since it would make it look more authentic and possibly keep Peter quiet.

When Peter's place was all set Arthur gestured that the robot take his place. "I suppose you are right," he began, mainly so that Peter wouldn't put up more of a fuss. "You are part of this family, after all, so you should be at the table and sit with us."

He then set down the copy of the _Odyssey_ he had pulled from the shelf in front of Peter and opened to the first page. "You have got to be kidding me, Arthur," the other had finally stopped stuffing his face for a moment to see what the other was up to. Arthur just threw him a glare: "I don't see you coming up with a solution, do I?"

"Just let him watch tv or something."

Of course, Peter ignored all of this and immediately started flipping through the pages of the classic before Arthur could respond to Alfred. It really shouldn't have been a big deal, but if the robot kept up this pace he would get through Arthur's collection in no time. Alfred had started eating again at his haphazard pace, and in a way it looked as if the robot was mimicking him. Well, there was no way the smaller blond would put up with two Alfreds in this house.

"Peter!" Arthur yelled, "Not that fast. Where are you manners?"

Peter suddenly stopped, and his eyes looked downward. "Daddy eats that way." Funny, he almost sounded ashamed.

"That's because Daddy eats like a barbarian."

"Hey!" Alfred finally responded, a mouthful of food, but Arthur ignored his protest.

"If you finish that, you will remain at the table until both your father and I are done. Understood?"

Peter nodded and returned to the pages of the _Odyssey_, a bit slower this time, but still at a relatively fast pace.

There were no further interruptions to dinner. Since Arthur had cooked, that meant Alfred was on dish-duty while the other went back to the table and sorted through bills and wrote out checks, slowly looking over every line in each statement they had to make sure he was getting things right. They didn't need another tax incident, that had been too stressful, so the Brit scanned each paper twice or more in order to make sure he was doing exactly as he was told.

It was only after a few minutes that Arthur felt something had been staring at him and looked over to see Peter's glassy eyes peering over the edge of the table. He looked like he needed something, but the little robot silently gazed at the other. Shaking off the funny feeling he was getting from the robot, Arthur returned to his task of paying bills.

Of course, Peter didn't seem to stop staring, and Arthur could hardly concentrate with the machine looking at him like that. Every few seconds he felt himself glancing back in the robot's direction only to quickly turn back to his work. But he couldn't get anything done with those eyes just staring at him and…

Wait, was that the _look_?

That same look that Alfred would give him when he wanted something, mother of Christ, he could see it in those shiny, metallic eyes. That same look that made the other feel like he had kicked a puppy, that one look that the other pulled out whenever he had done something the Brit liked in order to get out of trouble.

"_No, no, that's nonsense!"_ thought Arthur as he shook his head. Peter was a robot. There wasn't any way in hell that he could be manipulated by some emulated look that was probably programmed into him in the first place. He would not give in, he would not give in!

Glancing back down at the small robot, he let out a heavy sigh. It was still there. Fuck.

"Yes, Peter?"

"Play?"

Of course it would think of something as ridiculous as 'play'.

"Not now, Peter. Mummy is busy. Go ask Daddy."

"Play!"

"Peter, I told you…"

"Play!"

"For Christ's…" Arthur sighed. He had to get some of these done, and he very well couldn't with the robot staring at him with those big, metallic eyes. Sighing, he set his pen down. "What exactly did you want to play, Peter?"

The robot just shrugged. Arthur could feel his patience wearing thin; he bit his tongue to prevent himself from shouting before wondering what exactly was keeping him from raising his voice, the thing was just a machine after all. But looking back at Peter he saw those shiny eyes giving him that same puppy dog look that his husband would give him. He put his fingers to his temple to rub at his forehead as he could already feel a headache coming on.

"Well then, I suppose we'll find something for you to do," he finally said. Well, they did run a daycare, it wasn't like they didn't have things lying around for him to play with.

….

Peter had finally worn himself out and been plugged in for the night. Arthur felt exhausted; after finally deciding on Play Doh with the little robot he never would have guessed that he would be spending almost an hour cleaning up the mess they had made. Or rather, that Peter had made.

Still, it hadn't been all bad. The robot would pick up the dough in his metal hands and then squish at it, to test each color to make sure it wasn't going to hurt him. After deeming it safe, he would make an attempt at creating something, smiling and laughing the whole time, demanding the blond's attention whenever he "made" something.

"_Look, Mummy, a rabbit! I made a rabbit!"_

Arthur chuckled as he removed his sweatervest in the bathroom and prepped for bed; he certainly hadn't been programmed to make things with Play Doh.

As he brushed his teeth though, Arthur couldn't help but feel that something was off. Not in a bad way, of course, but ever since Peter had been hit by the storm earlier that day he'd been behaving differently. Leafing through all of his books, the fuss he had caused at dinner, the demand that he wanted to play and he wanted to play at that very instant. Brows furrowed, the blond spit into the sink and rinsed his toothbrush out. Why was the other behaving so differently?

Of course, Alfred had insisted that everything was fine and working normally. But Peter was far from normal to begin with.

Shedding the rest of his clothing and putting on his pajama pants, he knew that he shouldn't worry himself with things like this. Alfred had made Peter for Arthur, and there was no way he would willingly do something to upset the smaller blond. Though this hadn't really upset him; instead it had puzzled him.

Arthur turned off the bathroom light to head to bed. Perhaps this would all blow over in the morning after Peter had recharged. His husband was already in bed, of course. "Lazy tosser," Arthur grumbled, "getting into bed before me."

"Mmmm, love you too, Arthur," the other murmured, half asleep.

"Right, right," Arthur peeled back the covers and reached over to turn out the light before cuddling in close to his husband, who turned around to embrace the other and kiss his lovely blond hair. Arthur smiled; as much as the other annoyed him, he still felt there was no safer place other than in his arms.

"By the way," he began sarcastically, intent on getting it in before he fell asleep and it slipped his mind, "thank you so much for programming that look into Peter. I had plenty of fun cleaning up the mess he made after he insisted we bring out the Play Doh."

"Look?" Alfred moved, a bit confused. "What look?"

"You bloody know well which look I'm referring to."

"Hmmm…can't say I do."

"For Christ's," Arthur moved so that the other could see him, "that one you're always giving me to avoid getting out of trouble or if you want something. The one that makes you look like some sad, sorry dog."

Alfred laughed at what Arthur assumed was his comment, but then followed with, "That's crazy, Artie. As if I could program a 'look' into Peter. I mean, he's just a machine."

"Just a…" the smaller blond quickly turned his head to look up at his partner. "Alfred, I swear to God, I saw it with my own eyes. It was that look. He stared me down until I caved in, and in the exact same way you do!"

"Arthur, really, I can't program something like that into it. I mean, when I give you that look I'm putting some feeling and emotion into it. Peter is just a machine. He doesn't _feel_ anything. He physically can't."

"But I…"

"Shhhh, Arthur. We've both had a long day. You were probably just imagining things from working too hard. Let's just both go to sleep and it'll work itself out in the morning, okay?"

With that, the conversation ended, and Alfred, tightening his hold on his husband, snuggled into the bed and almost instantly fell asleep. But Arthur couldn't fall asleep that easily. He knew what he had seen, and knew for a fact he hadn't been too tired or imagining things when Peter had given him that look. He knew that when he and Peter were playing together, the little robot excitedly whirring as he squished colors together that there had been that spark of something, anything, in those shining metallic eyes. How it had looked so extremely happy when it had begged Arthur to take a look at something it had made, throwing up the silliest smile when he received approval and started on something new. Was it even a smile? Could Peter even do something like that?

"Hey, Al?"

"Mmm?" he murmured, eyes closed.

"Can robots smile?"

A pause. Arthur didn't know what to think about that; he knew Alfred was tired and didn't want to talk about things any further. He wasn't surprised when he did get a response: "Goodnight, Arthur. I love you."

"Right…right…love you too."

He finally was able to fall asleep, even with so many questions still on his mind.

**To think I was actually going to expand this a bit more. I think this is a perfect place to end Chapter 4; then we can move on to the next day or the next few days, whichever I feel like doing in the next chapter or so. I already have some ideas floating around, so now I just need to sit down and type them out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading and hopefully the next chapter will be up within two weeks. Yes, two weeks, Nibzo, let's shoot for two weeks!...if not that then the end of July-ish! **


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